Quick fic
Just a short one I eeked out between dabbling with two larger fic projects - both post-Nibelhiem which will surely makes some people very happy, and make everyone wonder what kind of drugs I'm on. As if this one won't. So, um, sit back and enjoy the oddness....
War Games
Warnings: Extended Metaphor Fic, First Person Monologue
Rating: PG-13 even if you don’t get exactly what’s going on, NC-17 if you do.
Length: 740 Words
Summary: Conquest comes in many different forms.
It takes aerial surveillance to truly appreciate the landscape under me. Laid out so openly below where I hover, it seems as though my victory was a foregone conclusion. But, I am never one to underestimate my opponent.
After much deliberation, I choose to scout the plains first. I let them carry him over their smooth expanses, over the dividing ridge and back again. With only a brush past the sentry, I know that my presence had been communicated to the final target. Best to move swiftly from here on.
Heading southward, I find myself in the hilly region. It does not take me long to discover that the alluring countryside is quite easy to lose oneself in. Once there is time to spare, I shall have to return and learn each dip and crest personally. For now, I must resign myself to wander the lush, dark forest in search of my campaign’s goal.
Almost abruptly, I find myself confronted with the watchtower as it rises up suddenly before me. With caution and precision, I surround the base with my forces and test the strength therein. Under my skilled assault, the entire structure shudders though I am not wont to let it fall just yet. Not when the crown jewel of the land lays so close within my grasp.
Weaving past the barracks, I make the steep descent into the valley. How delectable that the location would give me the high ground and leave such a precarious area virtually unprotected. I lay siege at the gate and let loose my strategies. Innocuous probing scouts find their way inside and search out the weaknesses therein. It does not take them long to grease the right palms and set up the fall of the fortress. Pulling back, the path of my march is set.
With the utmost of care, the bait is laid. A wooden horse placed before the gateway is my offering and I lay in wait to see if it will be accepted. Slowly, agonizingly so, it is taken into the entrance and I’m allowed to breathe again. Caution may be thrown to the wind at this point - There is no denying my victory.
Steeling myself, I push my forces through the opening so graciously given. For only a moment, the gates attempt to close in and bottleneck my progress. They release with the same speed as if also knowing that any resistance will prove fruitless. My ransack can truly begin now.
I drive my army in as fast at it will go. Wave after wave invades the close quarters bound by these walls that no longer defend insomuch as they contain onslaught. Within the chaos, I hear my name called from the ramparts. Call to arms or plea for mercy - it matters not. Though the physically in the domain of my opponent, the location’s strategic value is now mine. Every defense is turned to offense in my hands and used to run the other side into the ground. My maneuvers cannot be matched in this field of total war, though the challenger attempts to do so. Come at me as you will, by I have no qualms with scorching earth in this attrition warfare. Though it may be fast and hard, this is more than a mere blitzkrieg.
This is conquest.
Everything is shaking around me as the white flag of surrender is suddenly raised. All settles into the eerie post-battle silence only broken by the groans of the defeated. From my current position I survey my newly acquisitioned kingdom and can’t help but feel terribly impressed. Lively and virile, I will treat it with iron kid gloves and let it serve me well in the times to come. Call me your dictator, emperor, despot, czar, monarch, whatever you so choose - So long as I am allowed to rule, the title matters little when compared to the power.
Still, there are the prerequisite negotiations to go through with. Silver tongues are forced to gilde and compromise until a mutually satisfactory agreement is reached. Normally, we would exchange swords to cement the surrender, but it is not possible this time. Instead, I receive my treaty in being embraced by the conquered and accepted as lord. My newfound vassal whispers to me, “You’re as good in bed as you are on the battlefield, General.”
With a tender smirk, I reply, “But only with someone worthy can love and war truly be made, Soldier.”
Author’s Notes
This is a fic I had to write no matter how embarrassing it would turn out to be! I don’t know why, but I find it much easier to refer to a penis as a cock than to dance around it metaphor. (“Wooden horse” still makes me blush, bet the Greeks never thought of it that way, though Trojan did. XD)
But anyway, I pretty much wrote this for the last line. I know it’s cliché, but I don’t care - The S/Z pairing is pretty much about making love and war, or at least making love out of war. And don’t mind me throwing in all the military strategy lingo I know… Though I’m sure there’s plenty more out there I could’ve used.
Ummm, I guess if you want any part of this re-written in normal lemon terms so you’ll understand what’s going on, just ask me. Otherwise, I’ll assume you knew what I meant >_>
BTW, this was written under the influence of music from both World of Warcraft and wickedorin (another fic infected by “I Know my Way”) pumping through my head. Okay, and Morikawa’s “Between the Sheets” ‘cause it’s also good looping song and it’s all about screwing boys.
Also, congrats to the comm for hitting 69 members! Does this call for gift art? XD
War Games
Warnings: Extended Metaphor Fic, First Person Monologue
Rating: PG-13 even if you don’t get exactly what’s going on, NC-17 if you do.
Length: 740 Words
Summary: Conquest comes in many different forms.
It takes aerial surveillance to truly appreciate the landscape under me. Laid out so openly below where I hover, it seems as though my victory was a foregone conclusion. But, I am never one to underestimate my opponent.
After much deliberation, I choose to scout the plains first. I let them carry him over their smooth expanses, over the dividing ridge and back again. With only a brush past the sentry, I know that my presence had been communicated to the final target. Best to move swiftly from here on.
Heading southward, I find myself in the hilly region. It does not take me long to discover that the alluring countryside is quite easy to lose oneself in. Once there is time to spare, I shall have to return and learn each dip and crest personally. For now, I must resign myself to wander the lush, dark forest in search of my campaign’s goal.
Almost abruptly, I find myself confronted with the watchtower as it rises up suddenly before me. With caution and precision, I surround the base with my forces and test the strength therein. Under my skilled assault, the entire structure shudders though I am not wont to let it fall just yet. Not when the crown jewel of the land lays so close within my grasp.
Weaving past the barracks, I make the steep descent into the valley. How delectable that the location would give me the high ground and leave such a precarious area virtually unprotected. I lay siege at the gate and let loose my strategies. Innocuous probing scouts find their way inside and search out the weaknesses therein. It does not take them long to grease the right palms and set up the fall of the fortress. Pulling back, the path of my march is set.
With the utmost of care, the bait is laid. A wooden horse placed before the gateway is my offering and I lay in wait to see if it will be accepted. Slowly, agonizingly so, it is taken into the entrance and I’m allowed to breathe again. Caution may be thrown to the wind at this point - There is no denying my victory.
Steeling myself, I push my forces through the opening so graciously given. For only a moment, the gates attempt to close in and bottleneck my progress. They release with the same speed as if also knowing that any resistance will prove fruitless. My ransack can truly begin now.
I drive my army in as fast at it will go. Wave after wave invades the close quarters bound by these walls that no longer defend insomuch as they contain onslaught. Within the chaos, I hear my name called from the ramparts. Call to arms or plea for mercy - it matters not. Though the physically in the domain of my opponent, the location’s strategic value is now mine. Every defense is turned to offense in my hands and used to run the other side into the ground. My maneuvers cannot be matched in this field of total war, though the challenger attempts to do so. Come at me as you will, by I have no qualms with scorching earth in this attrition warfare. Though it may be fast and hard, this is more than a mere blitzkrieg.
This is conquest.
Everything is shaking around me as the white flag of surrender is suddenly raised. All settles into the eerie post-battle silence only broken by the groans of the defeated. From my current position I survey my newly acquisitioned kingdom and can’t help but feel terribly impressed. Lively and virile, I will treat it with iron kid gloves and let it serve me well in the times to come. Call me your dictator, emperor, despot, czar, monarch, whatever you so choose - So long as I am allowed to rule, the title matters little when compared to the power.
Still, there are the prerequisite negotiations to go through with. Silver tongues are forced to gilde and compromise until a mutually satisfactory agreement is reached. Normally, we would exchange swords to cement the surrender, but it is not possible this time. Instead, I receive my treaty in being embraced by the conquered and accepted as lord. My newfound vassal whispers to me, “You’re as good in bed as you are on the battlefield, General.”
With a tender smirk, I reply, “But only with someone worthy can love and war truly be made, Soldier.”
Author’s Notes
This is a fic I had to write no matter how embarrassing it would turn out to be! I don’t know why, but I find it much easier to refer to a penis as a cock than to dance around it metaphor. (“Wooden horse” still makes me blush, bet the Greeks never thought of it that way, though Trojan did. XD)
But anyway, I pretty much wrote this for the last line. I know it’s cliché, but I don’t care - The S/Z pairing is pretty much about making love and war, or at least making love out of war. And don’t mind me throwing in all the military strategy lingo I know… Though I’m sure there’s plenty more out there I could’ve used.
Ummm, I guess if you want any part of this re-written in normal lemon terms so you’ll understand what’s going on, just ask me. Otherwise, I’ll assume you knew what I meant >_>
BTW, this was written under the influence of music from both World of Warcraft and wickedorin (another fic infected by “I Know my Way”) pumping through my head. Okay, and Morikawa’s “Between the Sheets” ‘cause it’s also good looping song and it’s all about screwing boys.
Also, congrats to the comm for hitting 69 members! Does this call for gift art? XD